CHAPTER THREE
For the next three days Mr. Henderson avoided them. He spoke in the hall or dining-room, to be sure, but joined them no more in plans or on the gallery.
And Molly turned petulant. Why had they ever come to Aden, she moaned. “Can’t you propose something, Malise?” she besought.
Alexina, endeavouring to write letters, felt tired. She had been up at Molly’s call a dozen times in the night.
“We’re going to spend to-morrow with Mrs. Leroy,” she reminded her mother.
“She looks like Mrs. Malaprop,” said Molly crossly.
The daughter’s face flushed. Youth is rawly sensitive to ridicule of its friends. Besides, what would they find at Lake Nancy? It would be poor, she expected that, and it might be—pitiful? Not to her, not to her, but Molly was so unable to see behind things. If a thing was poor to Molly it was only poor and she said so. Alexina hoped her mother would not go.
But when Friday came Molly, in feverish, restless state, was ready for anything and even brightened up over it, while it was Alexina who was petulant, and put on one dress and took it off, and tried another, even with William Leroy down-stairs in the wagonette, waiting.
But she felt better as she came out into the sunshine and the dress she had finally decided on seemed to settle on her into sudden jauntiness.
William shook hands. There was a comfortable sense of humour about him.